


Date Night

by MissMagenta92



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Alternate Ending, Anal Sex, First Date, Fluff and Smut, Gay Cops in the 40s, Humour, Language, M/M, Post-Game, Public Sex, Romance, Roy Proves He's Not An Unfeeling Son of a Bitch, Shameless Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMagenta92/pseuds/MissMagenta92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a punch in the face turns into a hot-and-heavy sexual relationship between two stars of the Hollywood Vice Department, Roy Earle decides he wants more from the Golden Boy than shameless sex and decides to take him out on a real live first date. What will happen when two cops decide to go out as a couple in 1940s Los Angeles?</p><p>Previously written for the LA Noire kinkmeme</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gigi's

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys; this is a work in progress that I started for the LA Noire kinkmeme back in its heyday and have decided to post since I'm replaying the game. Give it a read and if you guys like it, I might continue it!

Roy took a long drag from his cigarette as the early morning light crept in. He hadn’t slept, rather opting to stare at the gorgeous being that had shared his bed for weeks now- he was under his arm and out like a light, blue eyes shielded by tired eyelids and dirty blonde hair. He looked absolutely beautiful to Roy; a few weeks before he was the irritatingly sexy Cole Phelps, detective extraordinaire and pain in the ass. He’d flirted with him sure, but he’d never expected him to do what he did. Now here they were, huddled together underneath Roy’s silk comforter, basking in each others’ warmth.

Just how had a punch to the jaw turn into sex?

_Three Weeks Ago_

It was a late night in Hollywood at a club called Gigi’s, Roy’s new favourite on Sunset. He’d spent a longer while at the precinct than he wanted to pursuing the case of some nameless, faceless hophead that’d met their end and he really didn’t feel like seeing a certain German junkie whore and the garish blue decor that surrounded her. Gigi’s wasn’t bad- the drinks were good, the music was better and on most nights he’d leave in the company of some pretty aspiring actress or a half decent whore. Yeah...he could get used to this.

He’d wandered in after the door staff greeted him out of necessity to a full but not stifling room- a hum of conversation radiated as the band took a break for a second when lo and behold, he saw a familiar blue jacket and white fedora sitting atop a perfectly combed head of dirty blonde hair.

He wandered over, staring Cole down like an eagle would its prey. He was cradling his favourite- a scotch on the rocks. Surprisingly, Cole didn’t sense his presence, even as he became closer. “Evening Cole...buy me a drink?”

He looked up for a second, looking like he’d just smelled old cheese. “Roy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He took a seat, despite not being invited to do so. “Eh, was just wondering why you’re not sitting in front of a certain delightfully damaged German chanteuse at the moment- we both know _very well_ how you feel about her.” He ran his fingers through the lapels on his jacket as he said this, grinning at how much of a smug arsehole he could be. This was going to be great.

“I could ask you the same question- it was you that took me on my first jaunt to the Blue Room, remember?”

Roy chuckled at the memory- Phelps looked so stuffy he could hardly talk. “I do Phelps...seems like an era ago,” He’d looked so cute, not knowing what to do with himself back then. “Either way, you haven’t answered my question; shouldn’t you have something or _someone_ better to do instead of hanging around here?”

Cole looked up at him properly. “I hope for your sake you’re not being improper Roy.”

Roy smirked. “What would you do if I was? You didn’t do a hell of a lot when it came to Mrs Phelps, why should it be any different for Elsa?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose, refusing to respond and opting to gulp down his scotch and look towards the stage.

Roy tilted his head. “She is still around, isn’t she Phelps?”

Cole swallowed. He still didn’t look at Roy. “If you must know, she’s currently courting an old comrade of mine. Happened while I was in hospital.”

The Ad Vice detective looked back at him in genuine disbelief. “It’s not that...argh,” He shut his eyes tight, pinched his brow with one hand and clicked his fingers with the other. “Whatshisname....that hard-on working for the DA....”

“His name’s Kelso.” His response was swift and clinical, like he didn’t even have to think about it.

The clicking came to an end. “That’s the one! Walks around with a stick up his ass and has a whole of one facial expression. Much like you actually- is it common amongst soldiers?”

Cole gave him a look that was fierce in his own stuffed-shirt kind of way. “I’m only going to warn you once, Roy; do not insult me or my men. We sacrificed a lot so that you could go around taking backhanders and flaunting your garish wealth. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up.”

The blue-eyed brunette hesitated to speak for a moment before his trademark sneer returned. “Still...don’t say I didn’t warn you Phelps.”

Cole’s brow hardened. “What was that?”

“The girl’s hardly the type you’d take home to mother, unless Kraut junkie sluts are your thing of course.”

“Roy, I’m warning you. Stop now.”

He saw Cole was getting heated; face growing redder with every little shred of annoyance he felt and Roy loved it. He loved it like you would teasing an ant’s nest or playing with matches. He wanted to see how far he could push before he snapped.

“You can’t say she’s anything but, Phelps. How long did you know her before you decided to trade in your wedding ring?”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Cole hissed, leaning in towards Roy.

Roy smiled in a way that flashed his canines perfectly. “Elsa. Lichtmann. Is. A. German. Junkie. Whore.” Every enunciated word rolled off the tongue like venom.

In a swift movement- too fast to even be processed by the brain- Cole grabbed onto Roy’s tie, almost choking him. “You want to take this outside Roy?” His eyes were but the width of paper cuts by this stage.

“Love to.” Roy sneered before he and Cole stood up, walking out of the loosely-guarded back entrance. This was what he’d been waiting for- to see Cole snap, once again. It was clear he still cared for the bitch and fuck, did Roy love to see him take off his Golden Boy mask and give him hell. If he were an addict, this would be his perfect drug.

Just as the click of the door closing behind them resonated throughout the dark, deserted alleyway, in a swift movement- too fast to even be processed by the brain- Cole walked briskly over towards Roy with his fist clenched, giving him a powerful left hook to the face. As Roy’s mind tried to reorientate itself and recognise the throbbing pain now residing in his right cheek, Cole yelled “YOU DON’T KNOW A DAMN THING ABOUT HER!“

As soon as Roy could stand up and ignore the pain, Cole’s hands were clamped around his collar, almost choking him. He was trying to incite fear, but this was Roy he was dealing with, not some silent Jap or simpering teenager. He could hear and feel his lungs and heart pumping away, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower as time passed. He was like a caged and starved animal; just ready to rip the throat out of the first person who annoyed him.

Roy flashed his sneer at everything he could; Cole’s hard facial expression, transfixed into a fierce snarl, the fact he’d made the stoic man crack once again- it was all too priceless. “C’mon Cole, quit the fucking foreplay- we both know what you want to do to me. We both know what you’ve wanted to do since you were demoted. You’re not some angel- you’re just like me, an eating, drinking, shitting, fucking red blooded man who’d love nothing more to sock an irritating shithead square in the face....” His voice sunk to a low growl of a whisper as he noticed Cole’s breathing becoming more and more ragged. He leaned in closer, practically spitting his words. “So why don’t you drop the good guy act and just do what you want to do to me?”

All this time, Roy had the assumption that he and Cole would put their dukes up and punch out months of built-up animosity and hatred. Hits he was prepared for. Busted lips and aching abdomens he was prepared for. He was even prepared for going home and icing his wounds while Cole did the same, greeting one another with sour looks when the morning came.

However, Cole didn’t hit him again. Didn’t even leave a scratch. Instead, his eyes ran rapidly over Roy’s face before he pulled him in, clamping their lips together.

He forced Roy’s mouth open with his teeth and tongue while Roy’s mind tried to catch up with what had led up to this and what was happening. He was no longer thinking of malice or his own ego; he was wondering why and how the fuck the man who clearly hated him had pulled him in for what was quite frankly a really hot kiss.

As Cole pulled away quickly, neither man said a single word, opting to look at each other with their eyes darting everywhere they possibly could, always returning to an intense stare. It was as if they were looking to one another for an answer, any answer as to what they should do next. Cole clung to every minute like he was hanging off a cliff that led to a deep chasm- what if Roy’s taunt wasn’t an invite? He’d not only be laughed out of the station but he’d be arrested and all for harbouring feelings for a guy whom he wanted to punch in the face on most days. He wanted to both scream at and kiss Roy passionately and it was a feeling he’d become well acquainted with ever since he was partnered with him.

Roy however had thought about his stance on Cole; he loved to annoy him, sure...but beneath the surface, his cock was stirring in a way that could never be satisfied by merely busting the Golden Boy’s chops. He wanted him stripped, sweaty and wanton; screaming against him and begging for a release that the German whore would have never been able to give him. He wanted him to scream his name and no one else’s and the more he thought about it, the more he realised how long he’d wanted it.

“Goddammit!” Cole yelled before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to fucking hate you Roy! I really do!”

Roy smiled evilly whilst he walked slowly towards him. “I sense a massive ‘but’ coming on.”

Cole tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wanted desperately to hate Roy. Roy, the man who took handouts from gangsters and paedophiles. Roy, who irritated him on a daily basis when they were partnered. Roy who wrecked his marriage and his career!  But at the end of the day, he was also the man who didn’t fawn over him with ignorant admiration. There was no tiptoeing around his feelings and an unashamed sexiness that made him slink back to his apartment, pulling himself off in the shower of a night.

“I...I...we-“He began finally, only to be cut off by Roy closing in on him.

“How about we leave the guilt and regret and this, that and the other thing for the morning, hm?”

He grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, crushing their lips together in a heated passion that both men didn’t want to back out of.

They held onto one another tightly, stumbling backwards until Roy’s back slammed into a wall. Fingers rifled through hair, hips grinded against each other and teeth bit lips in the onslaught. Cole slipped his fingers in the knot of Roy’s tie while the blue-eyed brunette got to work on the blonde’s buttons.

“This is wrong. So wrong...” Cole breathed, trying to convince himself of what he was saying as Roy began to run his tongue over his lily-white neck.

In return, he threw him a painfully sexy look. “Since when have you known me to ever do what’s right Cole?”

He traced a pattern with his fingers around Cole’s thigh, feeling the thick woollen fabric tighten as his cock pressed against it. Phelps felt impressive and running his fingers over his hardness made both men shiver as electric sparks ran through them. Cole bit his bottom lip, breathing more and more deeply as Roy ran the heel of his hand up between his legs, hanging onto his every reaction.

“Never knew you felt that way Phelps...Damn, if only I’d have known sooner....”

“Roy....” He gasped breathlessly as the Vice detective scraped his teeth and tongue against his neck.

Roy pulled him in by the neck, kissing him hungrily and spinning him onto his back, slamming into the wall. He was still struggling to believe how real this became- all those nights spent pulling himself stupid after a day of listening to Phelps, looking at Phelps, watching him work a case and carry himself in a way that was utterly, adorably fuckable had come full circle with him now tonguing Cole’s collarbones with eager gasps filling his ears. While he had imagined it, he’d never even come close to knowing just how cute he sounded when he was being pinned to a wall by his wrists while his collarbones were being traced over with his tongue. It sent a longing to his cock that hadn’t been there in a very long time.

Hands slid around torsos, pulling one another close. Cole was still trying to convince his mind what this wasn’t wrong; it was. On so many levels. But with every hungry kiss and fervent grasp, he was reminded that this man was the one he’d wanted for longer than he wished to admit to. To Roy, he wasn’t some decorated war hero to worship and knew that a medal didn’t change the man and for that, Cole felt freed by him.

Roy had undone his buttons, kissing every inch of skin that was revealed to him in doing so. He was toned and taut- they all had to be, being LA’s finest and all. His skin was uncharacteristically soft- you’d think that a guy who’d been through a Holocaust like Sugar Loaf Hill would be rough all over but to the contrary, he felt like he was woven together with fine silk threads. Glancing up at him, face flushed and emitting silent moans, Roy acknowledged what he’d known all along: Cole was utterly beautiful.

He slipped his fingertips into Cole’s belt, pulling the tongue of it out of his pants and soon enough, out of the buckle.

“Roy-" Cole began, becoming worried at the fingers now making short work of his fly.

“Cole, the way I see it, you have two paths to go down here. You can either let me blow you here,” Cole gasped as Roy gripped his hardness through his pants. “Or you can let me do it at my place. It’s your call.”

Cole let out a small, nervous sigh before nodding quickly. ”Yes….”

“You’re gonna have to give me a little more than that sweetheart.” Roy smiled into his ear before licking from his neck up to his earlobe like he wanted him to feel every tastebud.

Cole bit his lip. “Now. Here.”

Roy grinned for a second, getting down on his knees and not giving a single fuck about his $200 Brooks Brothers suit. For Cole, he didn’t mind ruining his pants, just for one taste of the Golden Boy’s cock.

He slipped his hand into his boxers, having to disguise his excitement over Cole’s rather large erection. It felt like he’d been hiding that one for a while; as he wrapped his lips and tongue around it, earning a shuddering gasp in response, it tasted like it too.

From Cole’s point of view, Roy looked and felt utterly pornographic when it came to the art of sucking cock. He’d never been sure about when exactly it was that Roy began to look utterly sexy- ‘ _Was probably running that whore mouth of his about a first date…._ ’ he thought to himself- but all he knew was that for what seemed like eons, he’d wanted to both punch the son of a bitch and slide his dick past that quintessentially Earlian _eat-shit_ grin of his. At the moment, he was golden on both fronts.

When Roy flashed his baby blues, Cole had to stifle a moan. The necessity for silence, as well as having every inch of his shaft lathered over with the Vice detective’s tongue, made him go an irresistible pink in the face which made Roy’s own erection strain painfully against his zipper.

Cole put his thumb to Roy’s forehead, making eye contact. “Goddamn Roy, you’re so UNGH! Fucking good….” He mewled with little to no control.

Roy pulled away, using his left hand to maintain the pace and looking at him devilishly. “I aim to tease and please.”

He ran his remaining hand up Cole’s thigh, his mind wanting to tattoo every single memory of hard muscles enveloped in soft skin into his memory. Once he reached his upper thigh, he squeezed Cole’s buttocks, eliciting a sharp breath in return. “Now you know I’m going to have to spend a lot more time with this, don’t you Cole?”

Cole hissed once Roy resumed sucking him off with vigour. _‘He is adorable.’_ Roy thought as he stared up at the dirty blonde’s flushed face, whimpering under the force of his tongue. He picked up the pace, gripping his thighs and almost pulling him into his mouth.

Instead of responding, Roy began to hum around the head of Cole’s cock. Cole sighed passionately, arching his back ever so slightly, teetering closer and closer to the edge. His fingers slunk through his hair, gripping it tight as he began to move Roy’s head just that little bit harder and faster. His breathing was ragged, seasoned with deep but barely audible moans, as if he was trying to mute himself. Roy got the idea in his head that he wanted to hear the pretty little Golden Boy _sing_ and he knew exactly how to do it.

The vibrations hit the head of Cole’s cock like liquid fire and he let out an embarrassed whimper.

“Roy!” Cole whispered furiously. “We’ll get caught!”

Roy pulled away for a second, looking up at Cole with a set of irresistibly devious eyes. “Let them catch us. I want to hear you _scream_ Phelps.”

Somehow, someway, Roy managed to go far deeper than he had been so far; he wanted to hear that pretty little goody two-shoes unravel, even if that meant almost choking in the process. He wanted to see him all hot and bothered all because of him. Cole was _his_ and had been ever since he was paired with the Pollack in Traffic, whether he liked it or not.

Every one of Roy’s throat muscles constricted around Cole’s shaft.

Every one of Roy’s hums crept up his cock like shockwaves as he neared closer and closer.

Those fierce blue eyes never breaking sight of Cole’s flushed cheeks and breathless body.

“Oh god...oh fuckUNGH!” He took a few deep breaths. “Holy shit I'm close....”

They way in which Roy continued was if he hadn’t heard what had happened at all. All that was in his mind was ‘ _Don’t let him forget it’s you that’s responsible for this. It’s you giving him the best blowjob of his life. Not that German junkie or prude of an ex wife, you. Go harder. Go faster. Make him want more. Make it fucking well count, Roy._ ’

“UNGHHHHH!” Cole groaned as quietly as one can groan while he came down the throat of the Vice detective, body convulsing as he arched his back off the wall, almost losing his footing in all the ecstasy. Roy couldn’t help but moan a little himself as he felt the liquid slide down his back taste buds into his throat. Goddammit if that wasn't the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed.

As Roy got off his knees as straightened himself up, running a hand through his messy hair and wiping his lip with his thumb, he couldn't help but smile at the now dazed detective in front of him; deep in the afterglow and just barely comprehending what he’d just experienced.

“You came in my goddamn mouth Phelps.”

“The hell did you expect Roy? Jesus....” He had a hard time trying to compose himself, it was adorable.

Roy ran his hand down Cole’s red cheek before giving him a soft kiss, feeling a sense of relief wash over him when Cole reciprocated in his little hazy way. During the kiss, Roy grabbed Cole’s hand and guided it in between his legs.

“Look what you’ve gone and done Cole,” he all but growled once he broke the kiss. “What’re you gonna do about it, sweetheart?”

Cole bit his lip, looking down for a brief moment before looking straight back at him.

“Where’s your car?”


	2. Revelations in Roy's Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Cole's relationship develops a little more, leading Roy to become a little sore when Cole leaves for a night out with Bekowsky and Leary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey- for those who are still following this, thank you so much for sticking around as it's you guys who spurred me on to finish this chapter. This one's dedicated to Emily who never gave up.

They had left all of the angst and stresses of their tryst outside of the nightclub to the morning after, almost jumping through the ceiling when their eyes met in the foyer of the Hollywood division. They’d both clearly dressed to cover up any offending scratches, hickeys and other telltale signs of a night spent grinding, groping, sucking and pounding into one another- Roy couldn’t help but knowingly smile at the purple bruise forming under his left eye as he tied a Windsor knot in the mirror that morning. Once an awkward day of knowing glances and feeling warmer under the collar transitioned into night and once all of the other officers had gone home, Roy pulled Cole aside and admitted that he rather enjoyed turning him into a screaming heap against his sheets. As much as Cole wanted to push Roy back and chalk the experience up to loneliness, drink and a lapse in judgement, he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t come that hard in a very long time.

They couldn’t keep their eyes or hands off each other. There had been numerous times when Roy had entered Cole’s corner of the LAPD, snuck up behind him and given him playful nips on the neck or quick, fervent tongue kisses that left the skin tingling. They knew they had to be careful, but it was all part of the excitement; they shared a secret that was theirs and theirs alone.

It was a week after when it was decided that Cole, having earned back his stripes as an Arson detective, would become Roy’s partner once again. When the news was broken to them, they stole a celebratory kiss in a temporarily vacated hallway. That night, they fucked over Cole’s desk, culminating in both men groaning so hard with pleasure that they were sure the whole City of Angels could hear.

In Roy’s sheets, in the Cadillac behind the Hollywoodland sign, against the line-up board at the precinct, on desks, against walls, floors and on Roy’s balcony, their want for one another was never assuaged. It wasn’t just that however; Cole could see that his partner was changing, little by little. He would be more considerate in handling cases, even writing some pretty conclusive reports whenever a case had been closed. Whenever they saw each other across a crowded room, Roy would throw him a genuinely friendly smile as if he was glad he was there and whenever someone talked over the top of him, Roy would shut it down with the full intention of making sure everyone was listening to his partner. His mention of crime scenes being dates had began to bring an unwitting smile to Cole's face when before they'd annoyed him. He’d even started to arrest some of the bottom-feeder criminals that he would’ve normally taken a bribe from. While a small part of Cole hated to admit it to himself, he liked the man that Roy was becoming.

For Roy, it was different from every other time he’d slept with someone, whether he’d picked them up at the Blue Room or bought and paid for their services. For one, he’d usually fly the coop of anyone who’d opened up their legs and screamed his name for him before dawn. To him, Cole wasn’t a string of pearls, a lost wallet or a broken record player- he couldn’t just send him back. Whenever they were both reduced to grinding, thrusting, groaning messes entwined in one another, Roy took the time to give him deep, passionate kisses, as if it was more than just sex. Whenever Cole bode him goodbye, the cold air would sting his skin. He looked forward to waking up for work every day instead of just viewing it as another day of sifting through the scum of LA. It wasn’t until Cole was invited out by Bekowsky and Leary that Roy became enraged beneath a poker-faced surface. Cole had become the best part of his day….Perhaps even the best part of him.

That night, Roy couldn’t distract himself. He’d gone home early so he wouldn’t have to see Cole, Bekowsky and Leary pile into a cab, heading to a club where any number of women or even the detectives themselves would ply his Cole with booze and have their way with him. He’d changed into his favourite silk robe and boxers, the ones he saved whenever his ego had taken a beating and he needed to just curl up on the couch feeling sorry for himself. The TV proved itself to be a complete waste of wires as the sound of news reports and god awful comedians failed to distract him from images of women batting their perfectly mascaraed eyelashes at him, Bekowsky buying him drink after drink, Cole making that painfully flirtatious face whenever he’d downed a few and Bekowsky and Leary taking the bait and ordering one last round before hailing another cab….He held a clenched fist, ready to jump into his car and scope out every bar in Los Angeles until he found them.

However, before he could do so, a knock resonated throughout his immaculate apartment. It was enough to send shocks through his jealousy. He picked himself up and walked towards the door where an ever-so-slightly tipsy Cole was waiting on the other side.

He wore a goofy grin as if it were a new tie. In amidst all of the annoyance, Roy had to admit there was something painfully cute about the drunk detective.

“Have a good night did you?” Roy mused, arms folded like a pissed off wife.

Cole nodded slowly. “Can I come in?”

Instead of answering, Roy just stepped aside silently, wondering what he was going to do with this adorable drunk man. Rather than being left to his own thoughts, the sides of his face were swept up by Cole’s war-beaten hands, his mouth enclosed in a scotch-soaked kiss.

His back rolled into wall, under the force of Cole’s strong, drunken frame. Roy’s thoughts had not yet left him, but he had received the distraction he’d been yearning for all night. Cole’s kisses were like rolling thunder; deep, unyielding and slowly washing the jealousy away.

“I missed you....” Cole whispered in-between increasingly feverish kisses.

Roy pretended he hadn’t heard it but he did and it scared him how comforted he was by it. He was scared by how difficult it became to stay mad at the drunken schoolboy tonguing his neck, holding him close as if he was his sweetheart. Good Christ, he was becoming like one of those dames he’d never call back and it hurt.

Roy could feel how hard Cole was through the thick layers of fabric that separated them. In a way, he was a little flattered that he thought of him at a time when one’s brain tends to not function as it otherwise would. He was also thankful that Cole didn’t seem to suffer from Whiskey Dick either.

“D-did you miss me too?” Cole whispered drunkenly in his ear before giggling like a schoolgirl after her first gimlet.

Roy looked up with him with a look that he used whenever he had something to hide- sarcastic and unreadable. “Just a little bit.”

“Just a little bit,” Cole repeated mockingly before giggling once again. The man was a whole barrel of laughs tonight. Still, it didn’t stop him from running his hand up Roy’s thigh and hardening cock- it was still a little bit of a shock how bold Cole could be after a few drinks.

“I think you missed me a lot.” He whispered once a gasp came out of the Vice veteran.

“Well you’ve got me there.” Roy responded, regretting his honesty almost immediately.

Cole giggled before planting a big wet kiss on his cheek, holding the other side of his face tenderly. He was a gentle drunk it seemed. “Fuck me Roy.”

‘Jesus Christ if he isn’t so goddamn adorable...’ Roy thought to himself as he kissed Cole, feet stumbling their way into his bedroom.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy could see that they’d staggered into his bedroom- he was surprised that they hadn’t smacked back-first into one of Roy’s walls or cornices, although by now they’d had enough practise to know what was where. When he felt the foot of the bed hit the back of his knees, Roy sat down on his expensive comforter, pulling Cole down with him by his tie resulting in him falling onto him and erupting in giggles.

“Christ, how much did you drink?”

The blonde man grinned goofily before answering. “Never you mind.”

Man...He didn’t know how intentional Cole’s cuteness was but even so, it was sending Roy’s brain to mush. Cole’s hands sunk down to the tie holding Roy’s robe in place, pulling it undone and showing his chest, all laid out for Cole like a buffet cart to just sink his teeth into. Cole sunk his head down to Roy’s collarbone, kissing it and flicking his tongue against a particularly sensitive area that made Roy moan involuntarily.

“Hey...it’s not fair that I’m half naked while you’re still dressed, Cole.”

Cole kissed underneath his ear before whispering “Undress me...like you did at Gigi’s.”

Roy followed suit like one of Pavlov’s dogs, jamming two of his fingers into the Windsor knot of Cole’s tie while propping himself up as best he could on his elbow. He could feel Cole’s teeth scraping up against the expanse of skin underneath his ear and down his neck as he pulled the tie loose; if he was anywhere else, he would’ve chuckled at how different Cole became after a few drinks than when he was his normal, restrained self. He wanted to believe that he was one of the few people who had seen that side of him in a long while and it scared him how much he was beginning to care.

One by one, Cole’s buttons came loose and revealed his bare chest, warm from the multiple layers he wore. Roy leaned back on both elbows for a moment, drinking in the sight before him of Cole shuffling off his shirt and jacket, each muscle reflecting the moonlight.

“What?”

He was like some leading man out of a Hollywood blockbuster or something; one of those ethereal God-like figures that you couldn’t believe were real but were real enough to be caught on celluloid in all their glory. Despite their almost ceaseless fucking over the past three weeks, Roy still found it a little hard to believe that this effortlessly handsome and blissfully drunk man was straddling his painful erection and actually wanting to get fucked stupid by him, one of the most hated men in the LAPD. A man who blissfully took handouts from the seedy underbelly of Los Angeles in order to turn a blind eye to whatever nefarious business they conducted. A man who did not play nice, or even fair for that matter, especially when it came to the people he had his eyes on. A man who didn’t like other people touching his things, whether they were material or otherwise. Before he walked into Gigi’s that night, he didn’t care about being liked by anyone, so long as he got his twenty pieces of silver at the end of the day. Now, here....he desperately wanted to be liked by the now-shirtless detective whom was staring at him for an answer.

“Nothing...you don’t look half bad, Phelps.”

Cole smiled wide before kissing him slowly and languidly, sliding his hand down Roy’s nether regions. Roy shut his eyes, melting into Cole’s rougher-than-normal but still gentle touch that was like butter to his skin. Roy slid his hands up through Cole’s opened shirt, loosening it with his jacket before the blonde detective took the hint and just let it all fall. In return, Cole began to tug at the elastic of Roy’s boxers, an eager puppy to a very confining leash.

The senior Vice detective takes that as his cue to hook his right leg around Cole’s and flip him onto his back. If this was any other night, Cole would’ve started arching his back into the expensive duvet, dishevelled blonde hair spreading out as he writhed underneath Roy. However, this was not most nights, and Roy for the first time in three weeks was met with resistance.

“N-no....” Cole said with some definite uncertainty in his voice while Roy tried to flip back through every action he’d taken that might have led to Cole being apprehensive now. Lord know he didn’t want to hurt the man or even worse, have him walk out the door and never come back. He held himself up on his side, clinging onto the few seconds of silence. Cole mimicked Roy’s position, looking up into his eyes.

“I wanna be on top. Lie down.”

Roy was confused- Cole had never topped before. Every night and every spare moment they had together, Cole was always beneath Roy, a sweaty, moaning mess. He’d never said anything about any desire to switch it up...Roy had to think for a moment- was he even ready for that? They were partners and he trusted him with his life every day, now there was a little something he couldn’t quite put his finger on underneath the implicit trust now that their relationship had elapsed the professional stage. Yeah, he could try something new.

“Ok.” Roy responded, swallowing as he shuffled backwards until he could feel his pillows touch the small of his back. Before, he’d always viewed being a catcher instead of a pitcher as being submissive, somehow lesser-than for allowing a person like himself to take control and do all the work; a ‘fuck or be fucked’ mentality was something he carried with him when the morning had come and the person whom had let him take control was long gone. With Cole however, he didn’t feel like he was being used or that Cole was lesser-than for letting Roy do what he wanted to him- he was not only grateful for the trysts they’d shared but calm with the idea of Cole taking the reins. He trusted him but it was more than trust that he felt for the man, an unfamiliar feeling that was beginning to frustrate him, a man who had all the answers.

Roy began to spread his legs on the bed, unsure of how to present himself. Cole sat at the edge of the bed, starting to giggle.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean I’d fuck you, Roy...I just want to go on top.”

Cole managed to stand on his feet and fumble with his belt buckle, releasing it and pulling out his belt like a long, flat snake. He looked down for a minute before looking back at Roy. “Curious?”

He wasn’t going to top Roy tonight, but it didn’t mean he had any less control over the situation as Roy realised that he hadn’t blinked in quite some time. He tried desperately to maintain his usual, nonchalant demeanour as he moved around onto his knees. “Just a little.”

He slid two fingers into Cole’s waistband before feeling around for a zipper or clasps or anything. Cole slid one hand through Roy’s hair, massaging his scalp through his thick black mop and jutting his hips forward a little as a pair of eager fingers found the edge of the fabric covering his fly. In the moonlight, Roy could see an outline of Cole’s large cock, hard underneath his smart suit pants that he fought crime in every day. It entertained and gnawed at Roy to think of how long he’d been nursing that arousal for- had he developed it in the cab ride over from whatever bar he’d crawled out of, or in the few short steps from the elevator to Roy’s door? A venomous pang of jealousy spread throughout Roy’s system when the thought of Bekowsky and Leary being his inspiration, feeling like someone whose sweetheart had just asked someone else out to the prom...what the fuck was he turning into here?

“Go on Roy...” Cole all but moaned under his touch.

He undid the clasp concealing his zipper head, before pulling it down, being greeted with the sight of a dirty blonde tuft of hair and large cock. Cole had no underwear on underneath.

“Since when do you go commando, Cole?”

He leaned down, mouth right next to Roy’s ear like he was keeping a secret from the rest of LA. “Since I pulled my boxers off and hid them in my pocket at the bar.”

Roy closed his eyes, trying to process the assault on his senses happening at that moment. Cole had a particular scent that clung to him like a wet suit in the middle of some rare LA winter rain and it amplified in close quarters. On this particular occasion, he smelled like the scotch he'd been drinking mixed with some heady cologne that was beginning to fade away with his faint hint of sweat. There some something indescribable in his scent that pulled him in whenever they shared a space, but he knew that it wasn't something that could be captured, bottled and put onto some shelf on Rodeo Drive.

Cole stood in front of Roy, running his hands through his hair with the moonlight highlighting every bump in his biceps and abs. He stood like he was a callgirl on show, just absorbing Roy staring back with the appearance of a man amazed rather than with the cocky confidence that he usually wore. Truth was Roy never ceased to be amazed by the man standing before him, seeing as every time they were together was an attempt on his part to tattoo the experience to his mind so that when he became old, grey and less dashing, he could remember the time in his life where he had a man like Cole, standing before him while his body begged to be fucked. Whether it was the alcohol or Roy's lack of subtlety, Cole looked at him seductively as if he knew that Roy was wrapped right around his finger.

Cole leaned forward, kissing Roy gently with the tips of his fingers pressing gently onto his bare chest, beckoning him to shuffle back until he hit the bedhead. Roy took the hint and did so, never breaking the stare that Cole initiated. He sat with his legs ajar, allowing Cole to perch himself in front of Roy's full-mast crotch and giving him a full view of his back down to his arse. He tugged at the waistband of Roy's boxers, now taut from his erection and pulled them down, making his cock spring back towards his body.

The blonde detective smiled as he looked down at Roy's large member. "I guess there should be some obligatory 'Is that a gun in your pocket' joke in here somewhere."

"Like we haven't heard that zinger a million times." Roy responded sardonically.

Cole chuckled for a moment. "Good thing I know you're just happy to see me then." He quipped before running his tongue along the underside of the Vice Detective's shaft.

Roy sighed silently at the feeling of Cole's mouth wrapping around his erection, lips wantonly dragging up and down in a teasingly steady rhythm. While Roy was no stranger to a filthy blowjob from the drunk, desperate and delinquent, this seemed different, like it was becoming less and less easy for him to picture himself retreating to the pretty aspiring actresses waiting bars and the working girls on Sunset whenever he has an itch that needed scratching.

Roy ran a hand through Cole's hair, following his rhythm. Months before when they were both partners Roy never would have picked that Cole would deviate from his precise and methodical way of doing things- his suits were always pressed by this unsuspecting wife, his tie would always match the suit, not a scuff would be on him, even in a fight. Always perfect. It could be said that Roy was much the same and they'd be right too, but every man had his vices- if they didn't, both of them would be working Burglary or back in Homicide. It seemed Cole's vice was here, sucking Roy's cock like a man starved after being in a room full of men who would have never suspected that behind closed doors, LA's Golden Boy had become rather deft when it came to a blowjob.

Roy leaned back into the bedhead, moaning at the feeling of the fingers he'd wrapped around him, moving in time with his mouth. The temptation to thrust his hips and fuck his throat bloody was there, but something in the back of his mind tugged him away.

_You're not going to hurt him._

Instead, Roy opted to just roll his hips in time with Cole's mouth, grinding his cock just that little bit deeper in.

Cole groaned at Roy's receptiveness, leading him to cease his hands and place his elbow down on the bed, propping himself up on the bed and giving Roy a view that left very little to the imagination. Cole's other hand reached down between his own legs, tugging at his own cock in time with his mouth. Roy's jaw dropped a little lower at the sight.

"Damn Cole...what are you doing to me, jeez....Show's gonna be over before it starts." Roy sighed, massaging the back of his scalp down to the nape of his neck with the tips of his fingers. In return, Cole looked up at Roy, eyes glued to the man who was slowly unravelling against the covers. He stopped his other hand for a second, bringing it back up and running it along the underside of Roy's thigh and up his buttock. While he didn't have Roy's experience or refined technique, the Vice detective knew he wouldn't trade this for anything in the world.

Cole pulled his head back with strings of saliva still connecting him to Roy and a dazed but hungry look on his face. He gulped in a large lungful of air as if he would've passed out from lack of oxygen had he kept going. He managed to prop himself up on his knees before leaning in, grabbing Roy by the back of the neck and pulling him in for a long, lingering kiss that felt as if all the oxygen would leave his body with it. Along with the familiar pull in the belly that came whenever he was in the presence of someone whose body he'd soon get to use, something was tightening in his throat and chest.

“I need you, Roy.”

Those words, those damn words that melted like butter...if the streets or the mob didn’t get there first, Cole was gonna be the death of him.

“Well, we better get you prepared haven’t we?”

The tipsy officer giggled before biting his lip as Roy leaned over to his bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out a small, expensive-looking green bottle, flipping the lid. He tipped it, clear liquid pouring out onto the head of his cock. The other detective took it as his cue to rub the liquid down, coating him completely.

Roy poured a dab of liquid out onto two of his fingers. "Now you."

Cole lifted up his arse while Roy sunk his hand down between his thighs, feeling around for his entrance. As he did this, he could feel the heel of the Vice veteran's palm pleasantly nudge the underside of his balls. That, along with having his hole teased gingerly, sent a warm pull straight to his stomach and lower regions, eliciting a breathy moan into Roy's shoulder, fingers digging into him on the other side.

Roy liked the feeling of Cole's arms around him. Regardless of whether they were about to be entangled in a screaming, sweaty heap or not, he didn't want him to let go. What he was feeling was something different to how he normally felt whenever he just wanted to ram his dick into someone, dump a load in them and send them away in a cab. He was desperate for this man, like every time they were together was one to be thankful for because one day, he might come to his senses and remember how much better he could do than a corrupt, selfish piece of work like him.

Cole kissed him softly as one of Roy's fingers breached him. He took in a sharp breath before the feeling became less invasive and more pleasurable, like small jolts of electricity running through him. He pulled his lips away and pressed his forehead, now adorned with small beads of sweat, against Roy's own forehead, breathing heavily as the rhythm sped up.

"I fucking need you in me."

Roy was almost swallowing the urgency of those words, Cole's lips were that close to his own. He could taste the scotch on his lips, still present even now. The need that Cole felt, that seeped through his skin through every pore sunk into Roy, clutching onto his lungs and tightening so he could feel each breath inching up out of him.

Cole pressed the tips of his fingers against Roy's chest, beckoning him to lean back against the headboard. He exhaled once before lifting his hips, positioning himself over the head of Roy's cock. Not once did Roy blink, staying in silence as if he could somehow absorb the sight before him better if he wasn't making any sound. Their breathing and the constant hum of a late night in LA were the only things they could hear.

The soft, wet expanse of Cole's ass lowered down onto the tip of Roy's cock. He slowly pushed down, breath hitching as he felt Roy's length breaching him.

"Don't hurt yourself. Take your time." Roy said, chest tense as he tried not to slam himself into Cole's tightness.

He moved down slowly, letting out a small moan that the darker-haired man couldn't categorise. Judging from Cole stopping and hissing, it was clear he was in pain while Roy was just trying to hang on without letting his primitive side get the best of him, fucking Cole until he was them

"Ugh, fuck it." Was the last thing he said before slamming himself down, crying out in pain. In that one fluid movement, Roy's feeling of awe quickly turned to anger.

He grabbed his wrists. "Why?" His voice voice was hard as he tried to force eye contact between them. "Why did you do that?"

He saw the streak where a pained tear had slid down. Knowing he was sore tugged at him in a similar way to a parent whose child had burned themselves on the stove after being told repeatedly to stay away. It was the same feeling he felt in Henry Arnett's apartment when he's collapsed on the floor in front of him. It was the same as when he heard over his radio that Cole hadn't stayed away from Elysian Fields and was in pursuit of that broken, overgrown cowboy he'd seen leaving Fontaine's office a few times. Christ, he felt sick knowing that was the day he almost lost him….

"I just...Give me a minute." he hissed, holding onto Roy's shoulders to steady himself. He dipped his head to meet Roy's lips tenderly, trying to placate him.

What as frustrating was that it worked- Cole's fingers sunk into his dark hair, melting into him. 'Perhaps this was what love feels like...' Roy thought for a moment before feeling his heart stop. Love wasn't a possibility he'd considered when this all began.

Cole had started to move, pained hisses turning to pleasured sighs as he increased his pace. He hadn't let go of Roy's hair and with his movement, he tugged at it. It hurt a little, however the feeling of Cole engulfing his cock balanced out the sting from his follicles, like the ketchup to mustard on a hotdog. Like peanut butter to jelly. Like a pair...a pair that were just meant to be together.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were somewhere else...." Cole chuckled against his ear.

One set of baby blues connected to another. "Not at all."

Cole smiled back, pushing Roy back gently against the headboard so they could drink eachother in. Roy with his abs that seemed quite contrary to this predilection for paying his way out of doing any work whatsoever. Cole adorned with a neat, pink scar along his ribcage- a souvenir from his tussle in the sewers. His large manhood jutted out from his body invitingly and when he leaned back, exposing his neck as he continued to roll his hips...he was the most beautiful thing Roy had seen.

His jaw felt agape, so he held onto Cole's hips as he moved. There was no greater comfort than feeling Cole's hand envelope his own while another pulled him so their foreheads touched, feeling how much he was coming undone, hearing every sigh, every moan, every whimper as he rocked on him. It took him a while before he realised that some of those wonderful sounds were coming from him too.

"Tell me how it feels. I wanna know how it feels." Roy breathed.

"Good..." He gasped deeply "So good. You're fuckingnnngggh...incredible."

He needed to hear more. "What were you thinking...about...at the...bar?" Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

"This. Riding you like this. Feeling you in me like thisOH!" Roy had shifted his hips a little to gain better access to Cole's prostate. "Whatever you're doing, stay there."

Roy placed both of his hands into Cole's arsecheeks. "Oh I'll do more than that...sweetheart."

He lifted the blonde up slightly, slamming his dick into him hard and fast, finally satisfying the temptation that had been dangled in front of him since he walked in the door. Cole's groans edged on absolute smut, but his arms wrapped around him were like a final piece of the puzzle- the most hated man in the LAPD didn't feel so alone with him like that.

"Ungh, fuck YEAH! Keep going, fuck!"

Roy was starting to feel his hips become sluggish, so he opted to kiss Cole's neck as he reeled back from the intensity. Instead, he positioned one hand around Cole's leaking prick, pulling him in time with his small thrusts.

That's how they were. Limbs tangled, rocking against one another, lips and tongues against necks, teeth against collarbones. They'd done this many times before, however this didn't at all feel familiar yet it felt like home.

Every other time was always rooted in needing to relieve pent up aggression or the product of a day filled with shameless flirting on the job- flirting that, thank god, flew completely above the heads of their fellow officers. Roy had actually missed Cole when he was gone and even beyond that, he felt jealous about him spending time with other men without him. He didn't want Cole looking at other men the way he looked at him. He'd already had his fill of having his heart kicked around when he saw the Golden boy disappear into Elsa's apartment building; the light switching off while Cole's Chrysler sat outside sending a feeling of rejection through his bones like he'd never felt, nor wanted. This was his time now, and he wasn't about to let go. This wasn't just fucking to Roy. He wanted to make love to Cole.

"I'm gonna cum soon Roy. How close are you?" he said mere inches away from his lips.

"Getting there."

Cole straightened his spine back up, placing one hand on Roy's belly and the other onto the hand that was wrapped around his hipbone. "I want you to cum with me Roy. I'll do whatever you want."

He could do whatever he wanted to Cole- the door was well and truly open. He could have him flat on his back with ankles hooked onto his shoulders like the time they busted a reefer trafficking operation Downtown. He could have him bent over his pool table with an apple in his mouth and his hands tied behind his back if he wanted. He could have any of that, but he didn't want that.

"Just wrap your arms around my shoulders and kiss me."

Cole smiled. "You've got it."

He brought him in close with one arm, using his other hand underneath Roy's chin, crushing their lips together. As he did this, his hips slammed down onto Roy's cock harder and faster, tasting the small grunts coming out of Roy's throat.

"Jesus you're…something else, Cole." Roy said as he pulled away, breaths becoming more and more ragged.

Cole let out a chuckle "You're not so bad yourself- getting really close…."

Roy propped himself up a little, grinding his hips hard into Cole, pulling harder on his cock as Cole slammed himself down. There was an odd synchronicity to their movements, as if it was no longer their wills that moved them but rather something that had been imprinted in their biology. All the wanting, all the desire now woven into them.

Roy just stared up at the blonde man with his eyes now clenched from the pleasure. His own heart beat with an endless thrum while his eardums felt like they were about to burst. Cole's movements became more erratic as each second dragged on; he tried gaining traction from clenching the sheets behind him. All Roy could do was move and think about how beautiful this man was, how precious he was how much he loved him…

His pupils turned to pinpricks. He loved Cole. He loved him. He'd loved him when he'd come through the door, he'd loved him when he left the LAPD to hit up a dive bar that afternoon, he'd loved him when he'd followed that German junkie whore home and broken his heart for the first time. It was enough to deafen him their moans that were reverberating off the walls and could probably be heard all over Sunset.

"Oh GODDDDD!!!!"

Ropes of semen shot out of Cole, adorning Roy's chest and abdomen as his hips jerked haphazardly and deep, guttural groans crept out of the depths of his lungs, like a car running out of gas as it tries to turn the last corner home. As he did this, tightening nicely around Roy's shaft, Roy could feel his own orgasm being ripped from him.

"NnnnggggFUCK!"

The Vice detective gripped onto his hips, needing to steady both Cole and himself as he involuntarily slammed into Coles tight, wet, abused arse, pulling small moans out of him as they rode out the aftershocks. The blonde detective placed his head on Roy's shoulder, kissing it gently as Roy barely clung to post-orgasmic consciousness.

Roy could barely think or breathe. All he had in his head was that he needed to kiss Cole softly, pulling the man in by the chin. He could feel the heat radiating off of the both of them as it finally became evident how cold the night air was compared to them. When Cole stopped to move himself off, snuggling beneath his arm like he belonged there, Roy couldn't shake what his heart felt. It wasn't just the sex, nor was it the flirting or the weird, competitive streak in him that felt content whenever anyone, especially the LAPD's Golden Boy, submitted to him- he really did love Cole. Partners or not, the man who cared only for himself also cared about him. It's why he nigh on begged Colmyer to make him his partner and why he warned him to stop investigating Elysian Fields before he got himself killed. He didn't want to send Cole home in a cab when he was done with him- he wanted to be the one that he shared coffee with of a morning and came home to of a night. He wanted to make Cole happy and for him to accept him when he didn't care for the acceptance of anyone else.

"I really did miss you, ya know." Cole grumbled drunkenly as he curled up against Roy.

Roy gave him a tired smile, trying to not to let on how much those few words meant to him. By the time he managed to whisper "I missed you too...." Cole was already fast asleep, decorated by the lights of LA coming through Roy's window.


	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy can't get his thoughts from the night before off his mind and gives Cole an interesting proposal that could lead to something more. How will they deal when complications begin to arise at their favourite watering hole?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking this long folks- life got in the way. I haven't forgotten you or this so here you go. Glad to have this chapter finished; pardon any grammatical or spelling errors- most of this was typed on my phone and autocorrect is a bitch.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it- if you'd like to see more, feel free to leave me a kudos or a nice comment :D

Roy's cigarette was almost down to the nub, however his thoughts were nowhere near reaching their end. Was his revelation just a product of an orgasm reaching critical mass or were his feelings genuine? Roy tried to think of the last time he'd been in love- his highschool girlfriend Karen whom he'd absolutely adored until she admitted that she'd been cheating on him with the quarterback of the football team. He remembered not being sure if he still loved her or hated her for sleeping with the guy he'd lusted after for months prior. From then on, he'd tried to numb his pain by ramming his dick into anyone who'd so much as given him the right look, tossing them away like a cigarette burned down to the butt come morning. Would-be Betty Grables serving his drinks on Sunset. Bargain bin Marlene Deitrichs at Brenda's. A slew of veteran and first-time criminals needing their charges to just go away but not having the money to meet Roy's hefty fees. Gorgeous bodies on pretty but forgettable, disposable faces.

Cole though...Cole had aroused feelings in him that hadn't had in a long time. The predatory lust that warmed his body upon their first meeting down at Central booking was one that he was well acquainted with already, however nothing ever prepared him for the longing that he experienced after. That look of absolute loathing when he strode into Silver Screen Props, informing him that Hopgood was an LAPD informant may as well have been foreplay. Looking back, their first jaunt to the Blue Room had been bittersweet because of the events that's unfolded after- he'd introduced him to that Kraut junkie who'd reaped the benefits of all the legwork Roy had put in once he's made it to Vice.

When he saw the lights go off in her apartment in that gaudy pink complex, he rode home trying not to feel the poisonous betrayal seep through his veins. He wanted to see the both of them hurt like he had been; no one had ever accused Roy Earle of being anything besides a spiteful son of a bitch and when Worrell called him in a panic over Brenda, it was like the stars aligned in the most hateful way. Hindsight's 20/20 and Cole could've done without his wife taking his kids and leaving him in the dust; he was only driven closer to Elsa and Roy was left feeling empty. As much as he tried to forget his blonde hair, baby blues and baritone voice in those stiff, Brooks Brothers' suits, he couldn't and it wasn't fair. He wasn't the one who was meant to be agonising over this.

Then came the day where the radio went crazy with news of Cole making his way to the sewers in pursuit of that lumbering okie cowboy that Roy'd seen in passing, back in the Suburban Redevelopment Fund days. He wrestled with his conscience that kept saying 'You need to find him' until finally succumbing to it; when he arrived, all he could see was Cole's soaking body being placed on a stretcher. He felt like he'd just been shot with the possibility that Cole may have died in the sewers- it was not the time nor the place where Cole should've gone; he was a warrior dammit, he deserved better than this. At the same time however, Roy couldn't help but feel robbed somehow.

"He's breathing. They're taking him to the hospital, not the morgue." a man in a wet blue suit said to him. He later learned this man's name was Jack Kelso.

Roy hightailed it to his Cadillac, following the ambulance closely. For three days he stayed in the hospital waiting room wondering if death was also there for Cole, for three days he didn't sleep in fear he'd miss out on the news and up until now, he never realised why he didn't just get back in the Caddy and slink off back to his apartment. He stayed because deep down, for longer than he wanted to admit to himself, he had loved Cole even if he didn't consciously recognise it. He craved his attention when he was in a room, even if it was negative. He needed those eyes returning the same look that Roy gave him without thinking. When the young nurse came out and told him that Cole had finally awoken, all he said was "Good." He didn't see him- it was enough that he was alive.

He felt stirring under his arm.

Cole's eyes tightened underneath tired eyelids as he rolled over, putting his arms up to meet his presumably aching head. This immediately sent a shot of adrenaline through Roy the same way a midday gunshot did.

"Nnnngggghhhhh....." Cole whined.

"Morning." Roy managed as the blonde's eyes opened up as slits, only to be covered by his forearm. There was something endearing in how he shuffled around like a baby bear waking up after its first winter hibernation, he couldn't help but smile. 

Something jolted into Cole, evidenced by his scrambling up the bed as if it were quicksand he needed to escape from. "Shit, I stayed the night..." He was interrupted by this throbbing head, hissing as the pain shot down his spine.

Without any prompt whatsoever, Roy stood up as naked as the day he was born, headed to his ensuite and filled the glass sitting on his sink with water. Instead of coming back and handing it straight to the blonde detective, he sat on his side of the bed and rifled through his bedside drawer. After moving aside oil, condoms (better to be safe than sorry in his opinion) and the odd skin mag for those lonely nights he couldn't be bothered to go on the prowl, he found his bottle of codeine- prescribed to him by one Dr Harlan Fontaine, before he met his end at the hands of the okie cowboy Cole had almost killed himself pursuing. 

He shook the bottle into his hands. "Two of these and that hangover of yours will be history."

Cole wasted no time in necking the pills, washing them down it the water and clenching his eyes, trying to will away the last wave of pain before they began to work. "I'm sorry for staying over. I know I shouldn't have." he said Roy once he'd opened his eyes again.

"It's ok, really..." Roy responded sincerely. "Plus, you did quite a number on yourself last night. Couldn't very well let a fellow officer drive home drunk now, could I?"

Cole chuckled. "Well, by the feel of things..." he moved a little closer "You did quite a number on me too." It was amazing how seductive he could be, even with the pain still sitting in his skull.

Roy smiled, leaning forward and kissing Cole. Before their kisses were desperate, feverish- ones stolen in case it was the only time that they would be able to truly drink one another in. However, neither had been there for one another the morning after; this was their first and Roy kissed him like he had woken up to his sweetheart. Hell, he had; this whole prospect of loving another person more than himself was going to take come getting used to.

Cole pulled away. "Unfortunately, you and I both have to be in at the station- pretty soon too."

"Can't keep the long arm of the law waiting now, can we?" Roy had little concern for whether his words dripped with disappointment or not; seeing Cole turn around and get out of bed when all he wanted to do was keep holding him, kissing him, making love to him all day was disappointing. On one hand, he liked having his secrets hidden away from the rest of the boy scouts at the LAPD. On the other, he wished that the war room wasn't so frigid that he couldn't slip his fingers between Cole's when he wanted.

He was turning into one of those broads he never called back and he wasn't sure if he hated it or not.

He stared at Cole's backside as the younger man searched around for the remains of his suit, scattered around Roy's bedroom and hallway. "If this was my wake-up call every morning, I might get up out of bed earlier, Cole."

Cole looked back at him, letting out a small huff of a chuckle before pulling up his boxers; baby blue, just like the suit he was collecting around Roy's apartment. It seemed like everything that Cole was stemmed in some sort of pattern, like he was still in his army-issue greens in Okinawa...

That was one thing Roy hadn't considered throughout his revelation; the memories that had never really left the man in front of him. There had been times during Cole's first stint at Ad Vice where Roy had tried prodding around, seeing if he could coax some sort of reaction out of him- he had little concern for whether it was positive or negative before. Every so often though, he'd see Cole's eyes glaze over as if he was right back in No Man's Land. In a way, he was- just in a different country with a different badge.

He felt his stomach and lungs drop as he considered the gravity of what he was about to say. It clung to the walls of his throat like a stubborn cough; mentally, Roy had to reason with himself just to speak.

"Cole....what are we?"

Cole raised an eyebrow as if he hadn't heard the question properly. It caught Roy a little off guard.

"Partners." He responded coyly.

Roy hated this feeling of treading deeper waters of uncertainty. "You know what I mean. Have you...Are you..."

His chest and throat began to constrict with the possibility of Cole fucking someone else. His conscience scolded him for softening up too much around him- there was a time, not so long ago where he himself would be the one sweet-talking some starry-eyed little princess with the knowledge of having been balls-deep in her best friend the night before. Now he was the princess and it wasn't feeling too fantastic.

"Sleeping with anyone else?" Cole finished for him.

Roy swallowed, not wanting to know the answer.

Cole smiled to one side, walking over and sitting himself on the bed. He ran his hand around to the back of Roy's neck, pulling him in for a kiss by sinking his fingers into the older detective's dark locks.

"It's just you. No one else right now."

Cole went back to trying to shuffle on a freshly starched shirt- kept in Roy's apartment in the event of a tryst the night before. He thought that would be the end of their discussion, knowing Roy like he did. For all of his knowing however, it seemed he hadn't picked up on Roy's change of angle; one where love was a possibility rather than an inconvenience.

"Right now..." Roy responded, cynicism dripping from every word.

Cole's expression hardened- ever so slightly but enough to notice. "Well, what else can we be? We're partners and we sleep together, that's how it goes and it's great. If anyone catches onto that, that's our badges and jail time. Even if we could be something else..."

That last sentence gave Roy enough hope to hang himself on. "Do you want to be something else?"

Cole stared at him in earnest "It's such a risk...I like you, I like this," He gestured over to the messed up thousand-thread-count remnants of their night. "But there's a lot on the line here."

Roy tried to swallow his bitter rejection, chasing it with his signature sense of sardonic humour. "Breaking my heart once again, Cole." He finished his words with a close-lipped smile, hoping it would mask the hurt that he felt.

Cole sighed, exasperated. "What do you suggest we do? Go out on a date or something? Have you pick me up, get me flowers, waltz around a club?"

His suggestion was met with a look of defiance. "Would it be so bad if I did?"

Cole should've known that Roy was not one to fall for a bluff like that. "What, so you'd have us go out on the town, on a date?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. You, me, Gigi's, dinner, drinks, tonight. If anyone asks, well..." Roy moved in a little closer. "We are partners after all. Sometimes partners crack a big case and go out and celebrate. No need for everyone to know our business but us."

Their eyes were locked- Roy's wanting an answer, any kind of answer, and Cole wondering if this risk, one that could mean being arrested for indecent, was all worth it for a man that he once tried to hate. Finally he closed his eyes and nodded.

"Yes?" Roy asked for reassurance, given to him by Cole continuing to nod.

Roy clamped their lips together quickly, smiling without a hint of malice once they broke. "Now will you let me get dressed?" Cole asked.

\--------------------------------------------

The day was in itself rather uneventful for two Vice detectives of the LAPD; by now they had figured out a set routine as to not tip off any of their colleagues that they'd arrived together- one would grab a coffee at a nearby diner while the other made their way up to the war room. The case they'd been saddled with was that of one of Cohen's guys, found dead near the Hollywoodland sign. At first glance, it looked like an apparent suicide and Roy was ready to call it a day- suicides were open and shut and he would've much rather prepare for his date with Cole. However, Carruthers had to come up and ruin his hopes by revealing that the dead mobster had five entry points in his arm, befitting an army surplus morphine syrette.

"These track marks are only fresh; seasoned addicts have several that are surrounded by scar tissue. My guess is that someone administered hotshots and then pushed them off the sign to cover it up. You're probably looking for a hardened criminal, but they're by no means a mastermind."

This warranted a trip to the Mocambo of course, where Roy and Johnny Stomp exchanged their usual jibes. It was strange territory for Roy considering his history with Mickey- the guy who'd bought his pool table. Still, he attempted to keep it professional, despite Cohen's attempts to deflect from the loss of his man at all. If Roy knew him like he did, he already had guys hunting down everyone who either knew something or knew someone who knew something.

And still, Roy could barely contain his excitement about his first date with Cole.

They managed to get the guy's name; Danny Shoenbaum, otherwise known as Danny Shoes, liaison between Mickey's numbers racket and the man himself. Witness interviews bled into one another, leads led to more leads and before both men knew it, it was 5:00 and time to punch out; both went in opposite directions once they left the doors of the precinct, needing a shower and to dress for the occasion. Back at his apartment, Roy picked out a powder blue pinstripe suit with an art-deco tie, as well as his favourite cologne. The entire occasion felt a little like prom night; all the excitement of getting dressed and going out, having a great time. The lure of getting laid later on in the evening wasn't even the highlight of it- Roy couldn't think of the last time he went on a proper date with someone without some ulterior motive up his sleeve.

A few sharp knocks emitted throughout his apartment. In glancing down at his Rolex, he could see that Cole was right on time. He swished one last handful of brylcream through his hair, assessing himself in the mirror before leaving the confines of his bedroom.

He answered the door to Cole, smiling in a navy blue suit; definitely a little more understated than Roy's ensemble.

"Subtle." Cole laughed.

"Well, I'm a man of style." Roy responded with his trademark smirk. He waited until Cole was at least in the safety of his apartment before kissing him.

The two men parted with Cole bringing a small brown paper bag up to his mid section, passing it over. "I've never been on a first date with a man before, so I didn't think a corsage would've been appropriate."

Roy chuckled. "I would've made it work somehow. Can't say it wouldn't raise certain suspicions though."

He pulled the object out of the bag and was greeted with the sight of a big brown bottle of Chivas Regal; 25 years old. It would've cost him a small fortune, especially seeing as Cole didn't take from the same hands Roy did.

"This is almost as old as you." Roy kissed him again, choking back what he really wanted to say. "I love it."

Cole smiled with a genuine happiness that he hadn't shown anyone in quite a long time. "I'm glad."

Roy put down the bottle and grabbed his keys, wallet and a hat to match his suit. "Let's go; the night's young."

\---------------------------------------------------------

Gigi's was a wise choice for two men who looked like on they were on the hunt for strong drink and two dames they could take home that night- loud, lively and crowded enough for people not to notice too much that they had in fact been sleeping together for several weeks. Waitresses were serpentining between tables, barmen were furiously cleaning glasses for the next round of patrons and the crooners on stage had slipped into the next song; a faster dance number. A thick fog of cigarette smoke crowded the room and the clink of glasses pierced through the place every few seconds.

If they fooled LA's finest, this place was toast.

It was taking Roy everything not to slip his hand around Cole's, so he just acted as if he was just his partner- just two good ol' boy detectives looking for a stiff drink, a feed and a woman after a long day of busting criminals on the mean streets.

He strode up to the hostess' stand, recognising the girl behind it.

"Hey Sandy, how's it going?"

"Detective Earle, nice to see you again. Your usual table?" 

She smiled in response, leading Cole to two possible outcomes- that Roy was either a generous tipper or that he hadn't slept with her yet. The territorial side of him was hoping it was a mix of the two, however he couldn't help but feel his cynicism seeping in.

"Please. Sandy, have I introduced you to my partner Phelps here?"

Roy wrapped his arm around Cole's back, gripping his shoulder. To the naked eye, this looked like one drinking buddy showing a benign affection for another. For Roy however, the message to the girl was clear- _'Back right off, sweetheart.'_

"Detective Phelps- nice to meet you." Cole held his hand out.

"Sandy; I'll be your hostess for this evening." The girl was bright and bubbly as always. "Would you gentlemen like a drink to begin with?"

Across the room while the two detectives were reciting their drink orders, another detective's eyes turned to pinpricks. "Oh shit."

Stefan Bekowsky from Homicide was sitting in a booth across from Gordon Leary, head of Traffic. Before the arrival of Phelps and Earle, they had also looked like two drinking buddies who were on the hunt for strong drink, a good meal and a woman to go home with. Unlike their colleagues however, they had long since refined their ability to hide their real relationship from everyone else.

"What is it?" Gordon asked.

"Phelps and Earle have just walked in." Stefan took a large gulp from the whiskey he was cradling.

"Shit," Gordon tried his best not to look conspicuous as he tried to catch a glimpse of his fellow officers. There they were, standing in front of a pretty blonde girl while the seconds until they were spotted just ticked away. "It's ok, we've just got to treat it like work. We can stand that until we get home, right?" Gordon rationalised.

Stefan smiled, reaching under the table, meeting Gordon's fingers. He may as well have been giving the man a hug across their chicken parmigiana.

As the hostess began to walk the Vice detectives to their table, Cole's eyes caught Stefan's, ending shivers of panic down his spine while he desperately tried to remain poker faced. 

He turned to Roy and whispered as much as he could without being drowned out by the music and cacophany of activity in the bar "Leary and Bekowsky are over there."

Roy had been in plenty of scrapes before; undercover stings in backroom heroin dens, scuffles with two-bit pimps that ended with a hail of gunfire, thrown up against walls by mafia standover men and interrogated enough to perfect enough lies to deflect suspicion. However, seeing Bekowsky and Leary sitting huddled in a booth giving Cole and himself the same stunned look that they were receiving made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Electric currents passed through each follicle while he tried to think of his next move.

He smirked to one side, staring down at the only logical course of action that wouldn't result in gossip or prison.

"Well....we can't leave our fellow officers hanging now, can we?"

 


End file.
